


you're gonna do me right now

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:25:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: Do y’all know how rough a chrysaor/percy abo fic would be?





	you're gonna do me right now

**Author's Note:**

> A short Chrysaor/Percy ABO fic drabble. Putting it here as a part of the Big Tumblr Purge.

Percy has less than half a second to think before his face is slammed against the floor of Chrysaor’s cabin. The force of the throw bruises his cheekbone; he’s lucky his nose isn’t broken.

Chrysaor is above him, pinning him to the floorboards with his hand painfully shoved behind his back. It’s dark in the cabin, the only light being the oil lamp off in the corner of the room.

“What did I say,” Chrysaor snarls into his ear, “about sneaking onto my ship?”

He smells faintly of sweat and musk, a side-effect of the humid summer heat. But Percy smells stronger, a side-effect of a different kind of heat.

Percy pinpoints the exact moment when Chrysaor smells him. His grip on Percy’s arm tightens painfully and he grinds his hips against Percy’s ass.

“So that’s why you’re here,” Chrysaor says, all teeth. “Needed a real alpha to give you what you want?” He doesn’t wait for Percy to answer before pushing himself up and letting go of Percy’s arm. 

He digs his hands into the fabric of Percy’s sweatpants and a second later there’s a loud  _ripping_ sound. The warm air of the cabin kisses his hot, slick-covered skin. 

Percy groans, “ _Yeah_.”

“Yeah?” Chrysaor mocks, yanking at the laces of his own pants. He doesn’t have a shirt on. Percy can see a dozen scars out of the corner of his eye. “Yeah, this what you need?” 

He shoves two fingers in without warning, without asking, without gentleness. It’s exactly what Percy needs. He hisses and pressed his ass back against Chrysaor’s fingers, then hisses again when Chrysaor shoves his hips down against the floor.

“Did I say you could move, you fucking bitch?”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Percy moans.

“No, I fucking didn’t.”

“ _Yeah_ ,” Percy says again and it takes a second for Chrysaor to catch on. When he does, he yanks Percy’s hips back into his lap, positioning himself so he’s half-crouching over Percy.

He calls him a filthy name that makes Percy drip slick and then he’s shoving inside, rude and angry and brutal and Percy can’t make himself shut up. It’s exactly what he needs.


End file.
